The Veil is Thin
by ruin-me-dramione
Summary: When the war is everywhere you suddenly see, what really matters. You don't hide your feelings anymore and just go for it. No matter the outcome. "You're so thin!" he exclaimed, looking her over. "And you're dead." Hermione whispered." Oneshot.
_a/n: Hi everyone! So, this storry is a one-shot and I wrote it very quickly, while the feeling still grasped me. A little warning - it's sad. It's based on a reccuring nightmare I had, and I needed to cope with it, and then it just sort of blended in with my Dramione obsession. I hope you like it and please review_

 _P.s. If you liked this story, it would mean the world to me if you'd drop me a line - even a smiley faceas a review would be amazing - I'd know that someone out there feels like I do and now holds dear something tiny that I created. Love to all of you, fellow dramione shippers_

 **The Veil is Thin**

They got married in the war.

Seemed like the horror would never end – battles, secret missions, dead friends announced every other day. Then – dead relatives. The only thing holding her together was him, the most unbelievable person to be her beacon and her anchor – Draco Malfoy. The wretched Malfoy heir was fighting by her side, protecting her like a feral dog, loyal only to it's mistress.

People around them still found it hard to believe – Malfoy is fighting for the order? Yeah, right. Draco Malfoy in love with Hermione Granger? That's a good one. But everyone, even the ones in denial, did admit sooner or later, that those two were an example of true love.

How they fought for each other, how he stood – an indestructible wall – between her and any danger coming at her, how she snarled and lunged – a small ferocious beast – at anyone advancing on him. Their battles back to back – a testament.

It happened after one particularly nasty mission, where things have gone wrong and their little group - Hermione, Draco, Blaise, Tonks and Lupin – jumped right into an ambush. They fought off the seven Death Eaters who were waiting for them, but Tonks got badly injured and Blaise's arm was broken in two places. Hermione had blood and dirt smudged all over her face and Draco's shirt was ripped, deep gashes on his chest. He didn't care. Looking around, at the pain of his friends, of his beloved, in a shallow field not far from Hogsmeade – his mind was stricken, like a lightning bolt. He dropped to his knees in front of Hermione, who was rummaging through her enchanted bag for dittany.

"Marry me" he was panting from the fight, tears in his eyes after all the smoke from curses.

Tonks, bleeding on her husbands arms, lifted her head and made an endearing sound.

"What?" Hermione's gaze was wild.

"Marry me, Hermione. There is no better time to pledge myself to you completely than the one where I can die tomorrow"

Hermione pulled out the small vial she was looking for, unblinkingly staring at Draco. As she poured the dittany into Tonks' mouth and the latter gasped for air a few seconds later, she said, grabbing Lupin's hand:

"Marry him, Hermione" plea in her voice.

Draco was still on his knees, patiently waiting. She turned around, facing him, slightly touching his gory wounds.

"I will"

Blaise's broken arm suddenly hurt a lot less.

Reactions were very different – some, like Tonks, were overjoyed for the couple, encouraging them. Some, like Ron, were sullen and confined to a dry "Congratulations". Some didn't care, some rumbled about how "Now is not the time". Angry, passionate Draco was arguing his point violently – now is exactly the time. Now. _Now._

Draco's present to Hermione was a house.

"Excuse me? You bought a house?"

"Why is this such a shock to you?" he smiled charmingly.

She didn't even know what to say and just opened her mouth in disbelief, spreading her arms helplessly. He laughed and took her hand to apparate.

It was a small, sturdy cottage, just on the outskirts of London, near a pine forest. Just like she always wanted. The house was cozy, dark and everything was wooden. She particularly loved the bathroom – brown panel walls, a big mirror over the sink, reflecting the square bathtub at the opposite wall. She felt safe there and they bathed there together after missions, flushing away blood and fear, melting in each others embrace.

They wore simple steel rings, exactly the same – his a few sizes bigger. Inside both rings there was an engraving "The time is now".

"I honestly thought you'd never agree to steel rings, with your love for silver and expensive things in general" Hermione smiled, tracing figures on his bare chest with her finger, safely tucked together in their wide bed.

"They matter more like this." he still couldn't quite catch his breath after she rode him vigorously, endlessly, sweetly.

"They do?" she smiled.

"Yes." he turned to her, pinning Hermione on her back and hovering over her face, "The war is excruciating and unpredictable. And yet our time is now"

They didn't sleep at all that night.

A month of contradictions followed. Bittersweet, so pleasing it was painful — their bliss at nights and stolen moments alone during the days. Harsh, bloody, groping your soul with clammy hands of death – their days on the battlefield or in the headquarters, planning.

They never left each others side, always hand in hand, always making sure the other one was close enough to touch, to feel, to see features clearly. She thought her chest would burst from how much she loved him. He thought his mind would implode from how much he feared to lose her.

His biggest fear was indeed losing her in battle. Not being quick enough to protect his little angry bushy-haired beloved. She always told him she would be all right with such a guardian. That nothing would happen to her.

"Of course not! I am your protector"

"And who is your protector?" she mocked him before a mission.

He laughed and pressed a hungry kiss on her lips.

"I adore you"

She heard him shout Protego and knew he was safe, but three seconds passed and his back, pressed towards hers, was no longer shielding her from the assault. The Death Eaters were suddenly retreating. In half a second it took Hermione to turn around she heard Tonks and Blaise scream, saw everyone run towards her. Her heart didn't have time to drop to her heels and make assumptions, and instead she felt she was going to faint, when she saw what was behind her.

Draco was there, flat on his back, rigid and his gorgeous silver eyes no more blazing with battle fury. His lips were frozen in a half smile. His hair was ruffled and blood trickled down from his temple.

Hermione forgot how to speak. Everything went black and red and she swayed on her feet. She wanted to shout out to him, to lunge at his side and wake him up.

 _Stand up! Wake up, Draco! You said you'd be alright! Stand up!_

Their little group surrounded her, kneeling beside his still form. She was screaming so loud she couldn't hear her own thoughts. She didn't realize she was crying and thought someone was pressing searing wire to her face. She was sure she was burning. She took his hand, and felt it getting cold by the second. It made her completely unravel. She was mourning him like a wild animal. He was her protector, her lover, her best friend, her mate. Her everything. And she was supposed to protect him as well. And now he lay before her, cold as the February ground under their feet.

They cremated him.

"I don't want to stand over his grave and know that he's in there" she whispered, her throat closing up, to Tonks, who never left her side now.

Hermione never seemed to stop crying. She forgot how it was – not crying. How it was – smiling. How it was – feeling anything but endless despair and pain. Her insides were on fire every moment of her life and she almost couldn't sleep. And when she did fall asleep – she only dreamed of his dead eyes and blood slowly sliding down his beautiful face.

She didn't know time anymore. Everything was blurry and smashed together. After a month, or so she was told, Remus connected her living room fireplace to headquarters so that they could easily check up on her. She insisted on going out in the field with them, but forgot where she was many mornings, so nobody reminded her of missions. They were all worried about her, trying carefully to take her away from their house. But she became feral at the notion. It was their house. _His_ house. She could _feel_ him there.

Hermione thought she was going insane. Her face was swollen from tears and she lost almost half her body weight. She almost never left the house and was always wearing his black jacket, the one he loved so much and wore so often, that it still faintly smelled like him. She didn't distinguish the moments at which she started crying anymore. Making tea – and tears were falling down into her cup. Walking from the bedroom after a horrifying, fitful two hour slumber – and her vision was suddenly blurred by tears. It became her normal state, and she wouldn't even know that the outside world still existed, if various Order members didn't pop from her fireplace from time to time. All of her windows were facing the forest, she kept the house dimly lit and cluttered with Draco's things. She didn't move anything he left – his shirts on a chair in the bedroom, a cup of unfinished coffee on the kitchen table. His shampoo bottle, a strong, musky, masculine smell – was still open at the edge of their giant bathtub. She sniffed it every time she washed herself, remembering his big hands on her slippery body, washing her after a mission, or just on a Sunday morning, when even the Death Eaters slept in and everyone stayed home.

If Tonks didn't flip the calendar on Hermione's kitchen wall, she'd never even know that five months had passed since Draco's death.

 _Draco's death._

 _He was dead._

And she? Was this life?

There was a thunderstorm raging for three days now, and Hermione felt a little better, albeit only physically. An endless wall of rain was hammering towards the enormous windows of Hermione's house, and she watched it for hours, feeling less guilty for crying all the time. She thought that only nature could truly understand her grief, and this storm was a mourning for Draco.

She hid in the bathroom, when the sight of rain made her dizzy. She could still hear it tapping on the roof and thunder shaking the house, and yet in the confinement of their bathroom she felt safer – most connected to him.

She stood in front of the mirror, two weak little lights to her sides. She was wearing Draco's t-shirt that he used to sleep in on colder nights.

"I miss you so much" she rasped out.

A roar of thunder boomed over the house.

"I want..." tears started rolling down her cheeks "To be dead with you"

Another reverberation, and in two seconds a lightning followed, blinking in the small room through a crack in tightly shut curtains.

When the lightning blinded her for a second, Hermione thought she felt movement somewhere behind her. She was crying, her face down, shivering barefoot on the cold ceramic floor. And after the lightning whiteness was gone from the room, she felt warmer. Looking up at herself in the mirror Hermione saw Draco's jacket, casually covering her skinny shoulders. She didn't believe her eyes.

 _I'm insane._

She felt his faint, distant smell, that still resided in his clothes. Another roll of thunder loomed over the house, and after it a lightning, and Hermione stared straight in the mirror, afraid to avert her gaze. In the two seconds of blazing white and blue surrounding her, rain still trying to break into the house, she felt more movement behind her. The jacket felt tighter around her form, and when the haze was gone – Draco was there.

He was standing behind her, the black jacket now on him, his arms wrapped around Hermione. He was tall and gorgeous, just like she remembered. His face was calm, yet full of emotion. Hermione's eyes filled with tears more fiercely and she was scared, so scared – to move, to turn, to inhale.

"Draco" she quaked, her voice almost gone.

"I'm here"

She thought she was in heaven. She was struck down by his voice, familiar, beloved, calm, dear voice. She spun around and he was still there, holding her, looking down at her with adoration.

She was hysterical, screaming and crying into his chest, grabbing his blazer's edges in tiny handfuls, trying to bury herself into his body.

"You left me!" she screeched into his collarbone.

"Forgive me" Draco was holding her, giving her time to calm down, his cheek resting on her head.

"How are you back?" she couldn't stop crying, but tears were just falling now, and she could talk.

He looked at her solemnly.

"I'm not, my love"

He undressed her and she shivered once more, chilly air nipping at her glossine skin.

"You're so thin!" he exclaimed, looking her over.

"And you're dead." Hermione whispered.

He took off his jacket, throwing it on the floor, then his shirt and black jeans. Bare naked in front of her, his body solid, heat from his skin real, sorrow, desire and anger in his eyes. She pounced at him, trying to wrap herself around him, destroying their lips in a fierce, bitter, deep kiss. He lifted her and put her in the bathtub, turning on the hot water, never letting go of her waist.

Draco pressed her against the wall, hungrily devouring her lips, salty from tears, sliding his hands all over her body. She held on to him for dear life, afraid that he was going to disappear.

"Please" she whispered and moaned softly, as he bit down on her neck hard enough to leave a mark "Don't… Don't let this be a dream, Draco. Tell me you're really here"

"I am here, Hermione" he propped her up against the wall and slid inside her, making her throw her head back and softly cry out his name "I'm here with you. I'm real"

He put her on their bed, wrapped in a towel, and lay down beside her.

"Draco" she was gazing at him, never looking away. Tears rolled down her face and onto the pillow.

"Don't cry" Draco was calmly stroking her waist and legs.

"You're dead. I saw you die" she whispered.

"I know"

"How are you here?"

"I ripped through the veil and came to visit you"

"Visit me? You're not staying?" she sat up, and he sat up with her.

"No" he shook his head and took her hand "I can't stay"

"Why?"

"Dead do not belong with the living"

She was silent for a moment, lips trembling.

"Take me with you"

"What?"

"I want to die, Draco. I can't live without you. This isn't life, I am going insane" she felt her throat starting to ache, spasm from tears.

"I won't let you do that"

"But what's the point?" she hugged him tightly, and he pulled her onto his lap "You think I'll get married again, fall in love? Draco… you were..."

"I know, Hermione"

They sat like that for a while. She was crying, he was holding her, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead and cheeks.

"My Hermione"

She fell asleep to his soft whispers.

He wasn't there in the morning. Hermione slept dreamlessly and actually didn't feel tired anymore. Her chest was still on fire, her mind screaming, tortured. Their towels were there, on the bedroom floor. His clothes were in the bathroom, exactly where he threw them down.

The rain was still surrounding their house, if maybe not so strong. All day long Hermione felt like a zombie, walking aimlessly around the house. When evening was falling over the cottage, she found herself in the middle of the living room, only knickers on, shaking and angry, grief eating at her.

"Draco!" she shouted.

The room answered her with silence and rain picked up it's speed.

Hermione's legs were failing her, but she managed to get herself to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, she closed her eyes and prayed for thunder. And when it rolled, breaking her fragile calm, she shot open her eyes – and there he was. Wrapping his arms around her, starting to kiss her neck and shoulders.

"I love you" he whispered in her ear "I love you, Hermione. I love you"

"Draco" she turned around, like the previous night and pressed herself into his chest. He was warm, strong and very much palpable.

"Why did you leave?"

"I had to"

"Make love to me" she clawed at his chest "Please, Draco. Take me now"

He took her in his arms and again turned on the water, filling the bathtub this time. He placed her down at the bottom and sat beside her. She crawled onto his lap immediately and he smiled. Merlin, he was so handsome. He was so beautiful. He felt so real, so warm, alive. Hermione tried to shoo away the thoughts of him disappearing again.

The bathtub was slowly filling with hot water, calming her tense muscles. She grabbed his neck, left hand on his shoulder, and pierced his lips with a sorrowful, passionate kiss. They were angrily kissing, until both started panting. Draco lowered his hand and slid it between her legs. She bit her bottom lip, and arched a little towards him.

He loved the feeling of her wet lower lips and she saw his eyes blazing with lust. She moved slightly, and he lifted her up, just to put her down on his length, aching and hard.

She moaned and started to move slowly, savoring every movement, every strike of pleasure he sent down her spine, every flash of pain in her tortured heart.

"You have to come back to me" she told him quietly, not quite a whisper.

"I can't"

"You have to. I have to find a way to bring you back, Draco"

"Hermione" he cupped her face with one hand, leaving his other hand on her bum "I can't come back. And I can't stay like this for too long as well"

"Draco…"

"Please, just let me please you now. I want you to fall asleep happy. I want your pain to go away"

She considered arguing but with a particularly powerful thrust of his cock inside of her she forgot everything, and just gave into the feeling.

"Fall asleep, my love" Draco was covering Hermione with his body on their bed, under a thick blanket, trying to lull her into slumber. His ghostly heart ached and screamed for her. He wanted to stay. He wanted to break all the rules and stay forever. To haunt their house, to materialize in front of her when she needed him. To make love to her every night. To watch her eat, and talk to her while she cooked. He knew he couldn't do it, but he just wanted to so much. To break all the rules – for her. Just like he did when he was alive.

"No, I want to talk with you. I don't want to fall asleep and wake up alone again"

"I know" he sighed. He would've shed his own bitter tears, but he was being strong for her sake.

"So tell me – did your belief turned out to be wrong?"

"What belief?"

"Reincarnation" she was looking him in the eyes, scorching his soul.

"No" he echoed.

"Wait" she abruptly sat up "So you can come back. Why weren't you reincarnated yet?"

He looked at her, his wet hair ruffled. She tried to take in his appearance and engrave it into her heart, like he did with their rings. She looked down at his hand, and he was wearing his.

"It's sort of a choice" he gently smiled at her.

"Why didn't you choose to do it?" she was almost screaming.

"Because then I couldn't visit you anymore. I'd forget you" he took her hand, intertwining their fingers. He looked at her ring, feeling his chest tighten.

He stayed with her until morning. They made love in bed, when the storm outside their windows started bellowing even harder. She kept repeating his name, like a prayer, and he hoarsely told her he loved her, so many times he lost count. He wanted her to remember. To never forget. To always carry it in her mind, in her heart, in the center of her pleasure.

 _I love you, Hermione. I love you so much. I kept you safe._

The rain stopped and he didn't come anymore. Hermione was restless, devastated. She didn't know what to do, where to go, who to ask for advice. She knew she could go to the headquarters and speak with Tonks or Remus and they'd understand her, but she was afraid they'd tell her that she lost her mind, that she only imagined him.

She knew it was real. She had bruises on her skin where he bit her in throes of passion. She could still feel his palm on her bum, where it came down hard and sudden, with his roar of desire. She had "I love you, Hermione" written on her forearm in his handwriting. He laughed and scratched it on with her muggle pen, so that she remembered. He left little notes for her all around the house, so that she knew he was always with her. His ring was laying on her bedside table. It was real. He was real. But he didn't come anymore.

"Come back!" She yelled into the empty belly of the house, when the forest outside was dark, and her whole abode was lit by only a few candles.

"Draco Malfoy! Come back to me this instant!"

She fell on the floor and subsided to wailing in her most painful grief yet. It was much worse now, that she remembered vividly how it felt – to be with him. To hear his voice and feel him close.

"I'm here"

She gasped, cocking her head. Looking around the room she saw his silhouette before the big window that facing their dark pine forest. She tried to stand up, but her body was limp, so he sat down beside her.

"My Hermione" He took her in his arms, and she clawed at him, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

"Draco" she sighed shakily "You wanker"

He laughed his tender chuckle.

"I didn't keep you safe, Hermione"

"What?" she looked at him, puzzled.

"I was your shield. Your protector. I had to keep you safe and I thought I did… But my death… that curse I couldn't reflect destroyed both of us. If you keep mourning me you will never live again"

"I don't want to live without you." her eyes filled up with angry tears again, her lips trembling "You hold the other half of my soul in your hands and I can't live without you"

"I can't visit you anymore"

"Draco!"

"You need to forget"

"No!"

"I love you so much. I love you Hermione" she saw a tear fall down his handsome face. "I love you"

He pressed his lips to hers, and she opened her mouth. He licked her bottom lip, and just as she was about to grab him and undress him, and scream at him for saying stupid offensive things, he was gone.

In two months everyone at headquarters were nervous and jumpy, because Hermione was supposedly better and was joining them for a mission that night. Harry was tapping his fingers on the table, Ron was pacing. Tonks held Remus' hand and Blaise and Theo, both tired as hell were looking at the fireplace every second. They felt for Hermione more than anyone in the room, probably – they lost him too, and her grief made them both angry at him for dying.

When green flames whooshed in the hearth and Hermione stepped out into the kitchen on 12 Grimmauld place, clad in black t-shirt and jeans, and a black jacket, that was a few sized too big for her, everyone's eyes filled with sorrow.

"Don't you dare" she barked, annoyed at the pity. They couldn't even begin to understand what was going on inside her, so they could all shove it and not feel sorry for her.

They moved out, and were soon at Malfoy Manor grounds, not far from the house itself. Tonks shifted uncomfortably and inched towards Hermione, guessing her friend could unravel at the sight of his ancestral domain. But Hermione stayed iron steady and her eyes were set on the goal – prevent the Death Eater meeting from taking place and capture one of them, to question under Veritaserum.

They walked quietly to the supposed meeting spot, and saw them – black cloaked figures, no masks – even though the manor was no longer Voldemorts headquarters his followers felt safe here. There were five of them, whispering and exchanging parchments and small pouches. Everything happened very fast – Remus and Tonks jumped out from behind the bushes and fired two stun spells towards the group of Death Eaters, Harry and Ron did the same, while Blaise, Theo and herself shielded everyone else with their spells.

Hermione recognized one of the Death Eaters – it was a grubby little man with a disgusting grin on his face – he was there when Draco died. Hermione edged closer towards him, and yelled a loud shielding spell, that covered everyone of her friends. It was a complex, straining spell, and she was a bit out of shape, but the effect was achieved – the awful Death Eater shifted his attention to her and threw a curse her way. She only heard "No!" and "Hermione!" from all sides, and then a strong, painful punch to her chest, a flash of green light in her face. Draco's eyes. And then – nothing.

"We cremated her" Tonks choked out.

She was sitting on a garden bench, on a beautiful summer day. Teddy was playing in front of her, laughing and smiling at the warmth tickling his face.

"She did it" answered Victor Krum, who was sitting beside Tonks.

"What?" she wiped her eyes, and turned to him, but the tears kept falling.

"Hermione did it on purpose" he was looking at the ground, sullen as always.

"I know" Tonks whispered "I just don't want to accept it"

The little wooden cottage near the forest was now Order property, because Hermione left a will, and everything she had now belonged to her friends. Nobody moved in there, but Harry and Tonks took turns cleaning the place, so it didn't collect dust. One day, when grief for her young friend overtook her, Tonks sat down in an arm-chair in the living room, facing the forest. A small piece of paper on the floor caught her attention. She picked it up.

It read "I love you, Hermione"


End file.
